Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
As I toss my scrubs back on, I waver on whether to broach the sex topic or push my luck and see if I can get her to meet me for a coffee or lunch again later this week. But I know better than to corner someone whose life already tends to make them skittish.
No, aside from making my presence undeniably accessible, I’m going to have to wait it out and let Sammy follow her own map to me.
I just hope she’s good with directions.
Friday, May 20th
The Friday evening Central Park crowd is getting busier by the minute as more New Yorkers head out to enjoy an evening stroll with their dogs after work.
Of course, our dogs don’t notice. When Benji and Dolly are together, they only have eyes for each other.
Chase throws a tennis ball across the grass, and both Benji and Dolly race toward it with the kind of energy I haven’t had since I was an eighteen-year-old college kid.
When they both reach the ball, Benji backs off and lets Dolly take the win. With the ball firmly in her mouth and the wind ruffling the pink bow on her collar, she prances in a circle, wagging her tail toward her German shepherd boyfriend.
“Always the gentleman, for me and every other girl,” Brooke comments with a smile. “It’s a shame more men aren’t like Benji.”
“Hey now,” Chase chides. “You and I both know I treat you like a damn princess.”
Brooke scoffs. “Maybe before. Now…now, you don’t even love me.”
My eyebrows draw together at this completely unprecedented lovers’ quarrel. Brooke and Chase are about as copesetic as it gets. This is completely out of character for them both.
“Don’t love you anymore? Come on, you’re kidding me, right?”
Brooke puts a defiant hand on her hip. “I am not kidding. A man who loves me wouldn’t have refused to get his pregnant fiancée pizza last night.”
“It was three in the morning!” he retorts on a laugh, and my shoulders settle back away from my ears. This makes way more sense. “I didn’t get you pizza because nothing was open.”
Brooke snorts and turns to me. “See? Nothing was open? This is New York, Noah. You tell me. Was there something open or not?”
I smile at the two human lovebirds while the two canine lovebirds run around together in one of the small fenced-in enclosures within Central Park. “Nope. No way. I’m not getting in the middle of this.”
“How about I make sure you get your pizza tonight?” Chase offers, and Brooke shakes her head.
“Too late for that. My pizza craving has been replaced by chicken fried rice.”
Chase chuckles and meets my eyes. “Interested in grabbing some Chinese with us?”
“I don’t know, man,” I answer with a knowing smile. “Not sure I can be around all this tension. I don’t like when Mom and Dad fight.”
“Oh, shut up, Noah,” Brooke remarks on a giggle. “We’re not fighting. We’re just discussing how Chase needs to find a way to give in to his pregnant fiancée’s every food whim, no matter what time of night it is.”
“You know, Brooke, you always used to be so sweet,” I tease her with a sarcastic smirk. “Pregnancy has changed you.”
“Yeah, well, you try waddling around with a bowling ball between your legs and tell me how that works out for you.”
“Remind me… How much longer until you have this baby?”
“Too long,” she grumbles, and Chase wraps his arm around her shoulders, tucking her close to his side.
“June twentieth isn’t that far away, babe.”
“Speak for yourself,” Brooke grumbles. “It might as well be a year.”
It’s more than apparent that Brooke has reached the uncomfortable part of her pregnancy, and honestly, I can’t say I blame her. A month probably feels like a long-ass time when your petite frame is being stretched to its limits and the baby’s head is descending into the birth canal.
Benji barks, and all three of us look at the opposite end of the fenced-in area to find our two dogs lying beside their tennis ball, both of their faces staring toward us with expectancy.
Brooke huffs out a sigh and rubs a hand over her belly. “Pretty sure he’s calling you guys. Not me.”
I laugh, but I also don’t hesitate to jog across the grass to assist.
I pick up the ball and toss it toward the other side, cognizant to throw it safely away from Brooke, and both dogs are back to the races, sprinting toward the ball with enthusiasm.
Chase wraps his arms around Brooke, hugging her back to his chest, and the smile on her face as he presses a gentle kiss to her cheek is nothing short of sweet. Being a third wheel in our group isn’t anything new for me. And honestly, it doesn’t really bother me. If anything, it makes me hopeful that one day I’ll have what they have with someone.